


A Fight He Didn’t Want

by IcyPanther



Series: Voltron Road Trip: A Fix-It Fic Journey [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Missing Scene, Platonic Relationships, Protective Lance (Voltron), platonic klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: It’s silent in the Black Lion’s cargo bay save for the steady beeps that tell Keith the cryo-pod is working and that Shiro is going to be okay. That’s one of them at least. Now that the fight is over the adrenaline is fading and Keith is realizing just how messed up all of this is. So the quiet is nice… until it’s broken by Lance’s footsteps and his words. And in this instance maybe it’s okay for something to be broken.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Voltron Road Trip: A Fix-It Fic Journey [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864606
Comments: 38
Kudos: 164





	A Fight He Didn’t Want

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** technically set before events of season seven episode one  
>  **Warning notes:** none

“Hey.”

Lance’s voice was soft but it was still far too loud in the quiet of the Black Lion’s main cargo bay, the only other sound the intermittent beeping of the cryo-pod that told Keith it was working, that the person inside was still breathing.

So Keith heard him but he had no inclination to add any further noise, merely nodding his head to show that he’d heard.

Lance’s footsteps were barely audible as he crossed over the expanse, coming to a stop a few feet from Keith.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, voice still soft.

“I’m not hungry.”

And he wasn’t. Keith knew he should be as he actually couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten — before he and Mom had met Romelle — and a lot had happened in that and his body really could use the refuel but…

But he just wasn’t hungry.

“You should still eat,” Lance said and Keith hated that Lance had given voice to his own subdued reasoning. 

So Keith said nothing, just hunched further over and stared pointedly at the cryo-pod.

But not…

Not the person inside.

Not yet. 

His cheek ached and Keith fought not to reach a hand up, to prod at the burn scar seared into his face. He knew it hadn’t been Shiro, knew the words he’d spoken hadn’t been Shiro, but…

But they still _hurt._

“Keith, come on,” Lance stepped in between Keith and the pod, hands on his hips and gaze narrowed. “I know it’s just food goo but—”

“I said I’m not hungry,” Keith cut him off, trying to keep any anger from leeching into his tone.

He wasn’t mad.

He was just tired.

And exhausted.

And he really, really needed Shiro to wake up.

And besides, if he left to eat and something happened…

No.

He’d stay here. 

“Keith,” Lance’s tone had taken on something firmer, something that sounded far, far too calm and for some reason it made Keith’s hackles raise because he was not about to be lectured by Lance of all people. 

“I know, okay,” he spoke before Lance could continue. “I know. But I’m staying here.”

Lance pursed his lips.

And then to Keith’s surprise and relief Lance’s hands slid off his hips and he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed quietly. 

And he said nothing else as he stepped to the side and then, after a lingering look at the pod, turned and made for the exit.

Keith let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

He just…

He couldn’t talk to Lance right now. He didn’t want to talk to the others either, which he knew would happen if he went out there. They’d want to know what happened in those two years. They’d want to know more about Lotor’s sick plot.

They’d want to know how he rescued Shiro.

And it was that last one that curdled Keith’s stomach because he didn’t know what to say.

Did he tell them that he’d been forced to fight Shiro?

That Shiro hadn’t… hadn’t been Shiro? That despite his looks, his words, his memories, their Shiro, _his_ Shiro, would never be that cruel?

 _“I should have abandoned you just like your parents did,”_ the sneer filtered across his memory and Keith pressed his hands into his head as though that could push the words out.

“ _They saw that you were broken. Worthless,”_ and Shiro’s eyes narrowed, lips pulled up into a cold smile. “ _I should have seen it too.”_

But that wasn’t _real._

Shiro hadn’t said that.

He’d never believed that.

His parents had never abandoned him. Pop had _died_ a hero. Mom had left to protect him and she was here now.

None of that was true.

But still…

Keith’s fingers pressed harder into his head.

And if not that, then did he say that Shiro had tried to kill him?

That he’d tried to kill _both_ of them?

God.

God, all of this was so fucked up.

He just needed Shiro to wake up, to be the person, the _brother,_ he missed, that he desperately needed right now. For Shiro to pull him into his arms — arm, _arm,_ because Keith had _cut one off_ — and tell him he loved him too and that it was going to be all right, that they were going to be all right. 

And until that happened he couldn’t leave.

He didn’t want to leave.

He really didn’t feel hungry, that wasn’t a lie. Maybe he could go for water as his throat was parched and aching but it wasn’t too bad. And the bumps and bruises he’d sustained in the fight barely hurt.

Except for…

His right hand lifted to prod once more at the burn carved into his face and he pulled away with a quiet hiss.

That actually really hurt now that the adrenaline had faded and his life was no longer in imminent danger.

But if he wanted to get anything for it — and did they even have anything? Keith had been near useless in evacuating the castle — that would mean leaving the cargo bay, joining everyone outside and where the questions would start.

He’d deal with the pain. He’d dealt with far worse before.

He turned his attention back to the cryo-pod, to the blinking output indicating that all levels were good, that the occupant was resting. But the fact Shiro had needed put back into the pod at all after Allura had restored his consciousness — and Keith was still struggling with the fact that his Shiro had been missing since he’d vanished inside the Black Lion and that he _should have seen something_ and God, how had he not ever once questioned Shiro’s new, harsher, colder attitude? How had he ever thought that could be the same person as the one who had sat with him as he cried on a sun-warmed park bench and told him he would always be there to listen? Why had he never said _anything?_ — was scary because Shiro was always so strong and right now…

Right now he looked so _small._

His body had been through a lot, he knew. And to suddenly find yourself in a body — and a broken body at that — after all that time had to be a shock. Coran had told him, hand lingering for a moment on his shoulder and Keith eyes had stung at the gentle gesture when so far everyone else had been looking at him in a bit of a daze at the fact he’d somehow aged two years to their several weeks, that Shiro would be okay. He just needed time.

Keith could give him time.

But just…

Not too much.

He needed him.

They needed to talk. 

The sound of footsteps on the ramp had Keith both tensing and turning because after he’d sent Lance away — and he’d seemed to understand — he didn’t expect any company and after two years with just Mom he knew those weren’t her steps.

They were Lance’s.

He was back.

Why was he back?

“I know you’re not hungry,” Lance said as he approached. “But I figured maybe you were thirsty,” and he held up a cup no doubt filled with water. 

Keith’s throat ached more at the sight.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as not accepting it would be petty and stupid and it was…

Was actually really nice of Lance. 

“I uh,” Lance shifted a bit on his feet after Keith took the cup and a small sip that really wasn’t enough but he wasn’t going to chug it in front of Lance, “brought you something else too.”

“...Yes?” Keith asked after a pause as Lance didn’t seem inclined to explain or offer said item and Lance’s cheeks darkened.

“Here,” Lance shoved a small container at him that Keith took more out of instinct than anything. “It’s burn salve,” Lance said and Keith froze. “For your, uh,” and Lance made a gesture at his own cheek. “If, if you want it.”

Oh.

Keith looked down at the container.

His cheek throbbed.

“...thanks,” he repeated, even softer.

“How’d you get it anyway?” Lance asked, looking at it curiously now.

Keith’s hand tightened around the container and he could hear his pulse begin to pick up pace.

No.

He did not want to talk about it.

About… 

“ _Shiro, please,”_ his own panicked, desperate voice as Shiro loomed over him, blade burning his face, echoed above his heartbeat. _“You’re my brother. I love you.”_

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered. 

“Okay then,” Lance agreed, for some reason looking a bit upset but not, Keith didn’t think at him, and Keith’s eyes widened.

Just like that?

Lance’s attention turned to Shiro’s cryo-pod and he, tentatively but at least unlike Keith he was capable of approaching, looked down through the transparent glass at Shiro.

“He looks like he’s sleeping,” he said quietly.

Keith said nothing. 

“Crazy, huh?” Lance turned back to look at Keith. “That Shiro wasn’t… well, wasn’t Shiro? Even though,” he frowned then, but it was sad looking, not angry, and his next words were a whisper, “even though he was. But,” he let out an equally sad sounding laugh, “Shiro wouldn’t try to kill us all, huh?”

Keith stiffened.

What?

“Oh, yeah,” Lance winced. “I’m not sure how much you sort of heard before you took off after Shiro but, uh, he rigged the castle to explode. I mean, we sort of ended up doing the same thing in the end but you know, not with all of us on board.”

Keith didn’t really know what to say to that. 

“Speaking of,” and Lance took a seat on another crate a few feet away, and Keith felt his heart rate pick right back up again.

He was going to ask.

What did he say?

“How did you get Shiro to listen? I mean, his mind wasn’t there. Literally. Since Allura pulled it out of the Black Lion and that was after you came back and, let me tell you,” and Lance rubbed absentmindedly at his shoulder, “he really didn’t want to listen to any of us.”

Keith licked his lips.

If he told Lance he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t know if he’d get lucky twice and Lance would let it drop. But, but if he didn’t…

Keith was too tired for a confrontation, too tired to try to figure out all the nuances and emotions and follow a conversation.

“Shiro and I are close,” he said slowly even though, were they now? Keith hadn’t even noticed how _wrong_ Shiro had been and how could he call himself Shiro’s brother if he couldn’t help him when Shiro had needed him most?

“You knew each other before Voltron, right?” Lance followed up and Keith, while not eager to go into those personal details, much preferred this line of questions.

“Yeah. Shiro, he… he helped me get into the Garrison.”

Shiro had saved him. 

From an abusive foster family.

From a life of dead ends.

From falling into hopelessness.

“Ah,” Lance said and it was said with an air of someone knowing there was more but also knowing that it wasn’t about to be shared.

Keith felt himself relax a fraction.

Keith wasn’t the only one who had grown up. Lance and he had developed a tentative sort of friendship before, and Keith looked down at his knees, before Keith had left for the Blades and with it had come a level of respect and patience Lance had not previously shown him, but this…

This was more than that.

“I wonder how he lost his arm,” Lance mused aloud and just like that Keith felt every defensive hackle go right back up and they went up higher as Lance looked at him. “Did he have it when you found him?”

Keith’s heart thundered in his ears.

What did he say?

What did he _say?_

“Keith?” Lance leaned forward, concern dotting his features. “You okay?”

No.

No he was not.

Keith said nothing.

His hand around the cup shook and water sloshed over the edge.

“Keith, whoa, hey,” Lance stood up. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

Everything was wrong. 

“I’m gonna get Coran,” Lance announced, voice higher pitched. “I’ll be—”

“Don’t,” Keith choked the word out.

No.

He didn’t need Coran.

He didn’t want any one else here.

“Don’t?” Lance parroted, incredulous. “Keith, man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost and you’ve gone all clammy. You need medi—”

“No,” Keith interrupted him again. 

He didn’t need Coran.

He didn’t need medical treatment.

He just needed Shiro.

Just needed Lance to stop talking.

“What is your problem?” Lance demanded. “Something’s definitely wrong. You were fine a second ago and then…”

Lance trailed off.

“And then…”

It was Lance’s turn to go pale and he whipped his head back to Shiro and then to Keith, back to Shiro and then to Keith.

And…

And specifically at Keith’s cheek.

“ _Dios,”_ he breathed, and he took a hard sit on the crate behind him. “You, Shiro… He, he did th-that. To you.”

Keith didn’t agree.

He didn’t disagree. 

“Oh _Dios,"_ Lance looked sick. “ _Dios,_ Keith. I’m, I’m so sorry. I, I didn’t even realize…”

Realize that Keith hadn’t talked Shiro down.

Not at first.

And not even then at the end.

Not really. 

“And, and his arm,” Lance’s gaze darted back to the pod. “You cut it off.”

It wasn’t accusing though. Shocked, yes, and shaky, but there was no blame for the action Keith had taken. 

“You had to fight him,” Lance whispered. “ _Dios,_ Keith. You had to fight Shiro.”

And at that Keith finally allowed himself to give a small nod.

“I…” he swallowed, “didn’t want to.”

“Of course not,” Lance said hotly and Keith was taken aback by the strong defense and despite it all he felt something warm settle in his chest that Lance hadn’t even given the thought of Keith — reckless, hotheaded, Keith — fighting unless he hadn’t had another option.

“Of course not,” Lance repeated, quieter. “Are… are you okay? Really okay?”

Keith could say yes. He could say he was fine, everything was fine because Shiro was going to be okay. He could put this all behind him, as much as he could, and move on.

But…

But for some reason Keith found himself giving a small shake of his head because no, he wasn’t okay.

He’d had to fight Shiro.

Shiro had wanted to kill him.

And even though that hadn’t been his Shiro… it had still been Shiro. He’d still had Shiro’s memories and he’d pulled up on them, on every single cutting line he could think. He’d taunted Keith on his Galra heritage and Keith was still terrified that it had taken that to pull him out of the fighting haze he’d fallen into when Shiro had been beating him back.

What if he’d gone too far?

What if he hadn’t come back?

What if _he_ had killed Shiro?

What if he hadn’t grabbed Shiro’s hand in time?

What if he’d lost his grip?

What if they’d both gone over the edge and lost to space?

Keith trembled. 

His vision blurred.

And then he stiffened as a pair of armored arms wrapped around him in a hug.

Not too tight, but not loose.

Gentle and firm and…

And _safe._

It reminded him of Shiro, even if Lance’s arms were far too slender and his chest not broad enough and he wasn’t tall enough either, but the intent was the same. 

Keith’s eyes stung more and he closed them, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Lance’s shoulder to both hide the tears trying to escape and because he couldn’t meet Lance’s too knowing, too soft gaze right now.

“I’m sorry,” Lance’s breath was warm on the back of his ear. “I’m sorry, Keith. That you had to do that. I, I know it must have been so hard and… and scary.” He let out a huff. “I know I’d be scared.”

Lance’s arms tightened.

“But… but no matter how hard it was and how scared you were… you did it. You brought Shiro back, Keith. You saved him. He’s… he’s going to be okay now, because of you. He _did_ listen to you when, when he couldn’t hear any of us. And I’m just…”

Lance audibly sniffled and Keith didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or protest as he felt Lance rub his nose in Keith’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re back. And, and everything is going to be okay now.”

Lance was in no such position to make any promise of that grandeur. They were homeless, with little supplies, no real direction yet to Keith’s knowledge and Shiro was still hurt and weak.

But…

But he found he believed it.

And it gave him the push to pull his arms down from where Lance had near pinned them between them, drop the cup (he held onto the burn salve though) and slowly, lightly, wrap them around Lance’s back.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Lance sniffled and rubbed his nose in Keith’s hair again.

“And stop that,” Keith said, giving a slight shake of his head, but the words lacked any heat and Lance gave a huff of laughter that this time sounded as light as it should.

“‘s no good anyway,” he said, releasing his arms and Keith sat back too. “Too greasy.” Dancing blue eyes, a bit too bright to be normal, met Keith’s. “When did you last shower?”

Keith gave the question pause.

“Keith!” Lance’s eyes widened almost comically and Keith knew it was exaggerated for both of their benefits and he felt his lips pulling up into a smile.

“No! No smiling! When did you last shower?”

“Two years ago?” Keith phrased it like a question. 

He wasn’t entirely sure Lance’s expression was entirely exaggerated then.

Keith’s smile grew.

“A couple weeks ago,” he answered honestly.

“And did you use shampoo? Or conditioner? Or, or even soap?”

“I was on the back of a space whale,” Keith raised an eyebrow. “I had water.”

“Water,” Lance’s voice was flat.

“Water,” Keith repeated.

“Well lucky for you,” and Keith wondered if lucky was the right word, “I managed to grab all of those things and you,” a finger pressed into Keith’s chest plate that he somehow felt, “are going to be using them. In copious amounts.”

“Lance—”

“I know, you’re so grateful, but you don’t have to get weepy about it. Seriously, it’s more of a gift to the rest of us than to you.”

Keith knew there was an insult in that, but he could tell it was meant in jest.

In friendship.

“Later though,” Lance said. “You… you’re needed here,” and he looked to Shiro’s pod. “I’ll go get you some more water; maybe some food goo? It’s dehydrated and, strangely, it tastes better that way? Oh! And a blanket. I’ve got loads, don’t worry,” he waved a hand as though Keith was going to protest. “Is there anything else you need?”

Keith gave a mute shake of his head.

“Okay then. I’ll pop by in a bit with some stuff and… and if there’s anything else you need or… or anything I can do just let me know, okay?”

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith said softly. 

For far more than that.

And Lance inclined his head, a gentle smile on his lips. 

He was gone a moment later and the only sound once more was the intermittent beeping of the cryo-pod.

Keith took a breath.

And he stepped up to the pod and looked down.

Shiro did look like he was sleeping.

He looked…

Peaceful. 

That was the face of his brother. 

Not the face of the man who had attacked him, who had spoken those cruel words, had even pushed him into leaving Voltron.

This was Shiro.

His brother.

He was back.

And Keith was never going to let him go again.

**Author's Note:**

> Request fic of Lance finding out about how Keith got his scar as part of my fix-it fic series (and I fixed a few other little things along the way too ;p). If you enjoyed the work it would mean a lot to hear from you in the comments. Thank you :)
> 
> And psst! If you like my works, like Langst, and would like to help help dogs and cats with the amazing charity **The Anti Cruelty Society,** preorders for my zine, "A Collection of Langst Volume Three" are open with proceeds benefiting said amazing charity. You can **[find details on my Tumblr here.](https://icymakesazine.tumblr.com/post/629514167732387840/preorders-are-open-click-here-to-visit-the)** Preorders close **October 22**.


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